


Nearer To A Beginning Than An End

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bittersweet, Established Relationship, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, POV Alternating, Reminiscing, Series Finale, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: Misha had thought, coming back to film the finale after the long gap due to the pandemic, that he was prepared to say goodbye to this city, to this place that they called theirs for the past few years. After quarantine, the moment he saw Jensen and held him that first night back in their condo, city lights sparkling like diamonds outside the window, he’d realized how unprepared he really was.Two more mornings.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
Comments: 21
Kudos: 112





	Nearer To A Beginning Than An End

_Not everything ends badly you know._

_Dirty city snow and ice-crusted bark_

_end in bud and blossom._

_Dreary days often end with painted sunsets,_

_dark spells and sadness end when I hear your voice on the phone._

_Many things, maybe most, end in beauty._

_And no end, is not also a beginning._

_T_ _hat said,_ _I hope we're nearer to a beginning_ _than an end._

_X Alma_

On Tuesday, Misha wakes to the warmth of the rising sun hitting his face. His head feels a little fuzzy, groggy from sleep. Blinking his eyes against the glare, he catches a glimpse of the mountains off in the distance painted gold as the sun peeks over the tops. Jensen stirs in his arms, snuggling back against his chest, tugging Misha’s hand further around him. He makes a small huffy noise in the back of his throat and sighs out, still deep in sleep. 

Misha watches the sun dance on Jensen’s cheeks, how the freckles dusted over his skin brighten in the light. He’s at peace, a half-smile on his lips, content with being enclosed in Misha’s arms. 

Something in Misha’s chest tightens and twists into a low ache, like a sliver buried underneath his sternum. He’d thought, coming back to film the finale after the long gap due to the pandemic, that he was prepared to say goodbye to this city, to this place that they called theirs for the past few years. After quarantine, the moment he saw Jensen and held him that first night back in their condo, city lights sparkling like diamonds outside the window, he’d realized how unprepared he really was. 

Two more mornings. 

Swallowing thickly against the swell of emotion in his throat, he looks over Jensen’s shoulder, at the clock: 6:45. They still have a half-hour until they have to start getting ready to head to set, they have time.

Misha kisses the back of his neck, butterfly soft and lingering, feeling the warmth of Jensen’s skin on his lips. He settles back into bed, keeping one arm steady around Jensen and propping his chin on his palm with the other. He’s not going back to sleep, so he might as well engrave Jensen slowly waking to the world into his memory. 

Last week had been rough, there were many goodbyes no one had expected so soon. Longtime crew members finishing up for the last time, the last shot ever at the studio, and it was hitting all of them harder than expected. Jensen’s trying to keep it together, at least in public, but once he comes home and finds the safety of Misha’s arms, he breaks down. 

They’d spent the weekend reminiscing all of the places that have come to mean so much to them over the years. With the pandemic still going on, much of those plans had to be altered due to safety. Stanley Park had been too crowded to comfortably get out and wander through the trails and along the Seawall, but they’d taken a drive through the tree-laden park right before sunset on Sunday, soaking in the views. 

Aside from filming there many times over the past decade, it had been one of their favorite sunset spots and places to take leisurely walks on days they finished filming early. Afterward, they’d driven through the city, passing restaurants and stores, all that hold special memories. He’d held Jensen’s hand the entire time, their fingers laced together, Jensen’s thumb stroking over the top of his hand. They separated only when Jensen got out of the car to pick up take out from their anniversary restaurant. It was somewhat safe to eat out in Vancouver, but they wanted the privacy of home, to be near only each other, and savor the food that brings back so many memories of their candlelit dates over the years.

“You watching me sleep?” Jensen asks, blearily, peeking open an eye and rolling back towards Misha.

His voice tears Misha out of his own head and he meets Jensen’s gaze. Somehow, he looks even more beautiful in the glow of the risen sun. “I can’t help it, you’re too pretty,” he says, fondly. “Is that a problem?”

Jensen shakes his head, blush coloring his cheeks. He lifts Misha’s hand from where it rests on his stomach and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. “Good morning.”

Misha’s heart flips in his chest, overwhelmed with love for him. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I always do when you’re here.” Jensen covers Misha’s hand with his own and squeezes. “Did you?” 

“Mhmm,” Misha hums, non-commital. “I woke up a little bit ago, started thinking, and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Thinking?” 

Misha pauses as emotion wells up in his chest, tears pricking at his eyes, knowing by the visible change in Jensen’s expression he sees Misha struggling. “You know, about everything.”

“Mish,” Jensen sighs, sympathetic and full of love all at once. “C’mere.”

Jensen rolls over so they’re facing each other, moving to cup Misha’s cheeks between his warm palms. Their noses bump together and Misha smiles into the kiss Jensen gives him, soft and chaste. 

“Hey, we’re going to be okay. Just because the show is ending doesn’t mean we are.”

“I know, but we won’t ever have _this_ again.” Misha focuses on the slow strokes of Jensen’s thumb on his jaw to stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks.

“No, we won’t,” Jensen agrees. “But we’ll have cons and we’ll visit and we’ll find somewhere, a place for just us. Somewhere in between.”

“That’s Utah,” Misha states. He thinks back to his recent camping trip there, how cleansed his mind had felt after the alone time amongst the rocks and expanse of barren ground. 

“What are you saying you don’t want to fuck me in Moab?” Jensen asks, mock offense in his tone. 

Misha laughs, but it sounds more like a choked off a sob. “To be honest, I hadn’t considered it, but now that you mention it I can see the appeal.”

“Note to self,” Jensen says, forehead crinkling in concentration. “Find a secret hideaway in Moab for Mish and I.”

Misha laughs and leans back in to kiss Jensen, licking into his mouth, morning breath be damned. He doesn’t care. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You know you love me,” Jensen whispers, as he drags his teeth over Misha’s bottom lip. 

Misha shudders against him and uses the hand slung around Jensen’s waist to pull him inexplicably closer. _Yeah, he definitely does._

“I think I just might,” Misha answers. 

The melodious sound of Jensen’s answering laugh floats around them even as Jensen surges forward and captures Misha’s lips in a heated kiss. Misha slides a hand up into the short strands of Jensen’s hair and _tugs,_ deepening the kiss and coaxing a groan from his throat. 

There’s a lot he’s going to miss about part-time living with Jensen, morning makeout sessions being at the top of his list. And this morning, they have time to savor each other. Misha plans to make the most of it. 

* * *

After they finish shooting for the day, Jensen finds there’s a restlessness under his skin he can’t quite seem to shake. There were more goodbyes on set than he had anticipated, leaving him pent-up with unresolved emotion he couldn’t figure out how to release while surrounded by everyone. On the way home, he stays close to Misha, constantly touching him. He sits in the back of Clif’s transport car, he and Misha’s thighs pressed together, hands intertwined in the dip between them. Misha must notice something is up, he keeps giving Jensen worried glances and gently stroking the side of his thumb.

They say their usual goodbyes when Clif lets them out at the condo, briefly separating their hands on the short walk to the elevator.

“You okay?” Misha asks, as the elevator door clicks into place and there’s a low hum as it quickly climbs to Jensen’s floor. 

Jensen nods curtly and swallows against the knot in his throat. His fingers itch to reach over and cling to the lapel of Misha’s jacket, tug him close and breathe him in. He doesn’t have to, Misha sees right through him. His emotions are, as always, evident in every line on his face. 

“Sweetheart,” Misha says, choked up. 

He steps in close and wraps an arm low on Jensen’s back, pulling Jensen to him. Instantly melting into Misha’s side, Jensen tucks his face into the warmth of Misha’s neck and breathes deep. Fingertips stroke the back of his neck and a light kiss presses against the top of his forehead. Jensen slips his arms underneath Misha’s jacket and wraps his arms around him, palms spread wide over his back until he’s completely enveloped in nothing but Misha. A surge of peace and home settles over him. Somehow, knowing that Misha is one of the few people that really _gets him_ and can worm his way into Jensen’s vulnerable side, makes all this infinitely worse. 

“What do you need? Misha asks, voice gentle as he continues just touching Jensen, tracing shapes on his back with his fingers. 

_I want more time, I don’t want to go back home on Friday. I didn’t think losing this constancy with you would hurt this bad._

The words flower and die on his tongue, too much to speak aloud right now. If he does, he knows he’ll shatter and he’s not too keen on resembling a Kintsugi for the last two days of filming. “I just want you to touch me, in whatever way I can have you.”

Misha tilts Jensen’s chin up with his thumb, makes their eyes meet and Jensen sees tears sparkling there even in the dim light of the elevator. Inside his chest, Jensen’s heart lurches. 

“I can do that,” Misha says, punctuating the sentence with a kiss, so soft their lips barely brush. A kiss so chaste shouldn’t affect him as it does, but Jensen feels his entire body tremble from the gravitas of it. 

The elevator dings and slides open. Jensen knows they should separate, but he can’t bear it, not all the way. He drops his hand from Misha’s back and tangles his fingers around Misha’s wrist as they head down the hallway. 

* * *

As soon as the front door clicks shut behind them, Misha reaches for him. Not desperate, not like usual, but almost reverent in how he slides his hand behind Jensen’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. With slow hands, backing Jensen towards the bed, Misha strips him bare. Kisses follow in the wake of his touches, on his mouth, pressing into Jensen’s skin, across his collarbones, his chest, and over the smatter of freckles that line down his sternum. 

Misha steps back for a moment, their lips separating with a pop, to get out of the rest of his clothes. Leaning back against the bed, Jensen watches, drinking in the sight of him. The glow of the setting sun hits him just so, making his skin shine golden and accentuate the curves and lines of his body. 

Jensen tries to photograph this moment into his memory for later when they’re separated for longer than he would like, he’ll remember Misha awash with fire and all his. 

They don’t talk, not even when Misha comes to him and tangles his fingers around Jensen’s wrist, pulling Jensen flush against him. There’s always been an easy sort of silent communication between them, with one look or a simple graze of a hand, Jensen knows whatever Misha needs him too. 

Falling onto the bed Misha maneuvers them until they’re face to face, legs tangled. Neediness itches under Jensen’s skin as their cocks brush, and he rolls his hips, trying for more friction. 

Misha nuzzles at his cheek, bumping their noses. “I got you.”

Jensen knows, without a shadow of a doubt, he does. 

They kiss messily, all tongue and open-mouthed. Jensen rocks against Misha cocks grinding together, but not enough to do anything other than increase his desperation. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Jensen breathes, pulling back for air. 

“Yeah,” Misha groans. His hand slips between them and he rolls his thumb over Jensen’s slit, gathering the pre-come leaking there and uses it to ease his way as he strokes back down. “Me too.” 

They come apart quickly; Jensen too keyed up over everything to hold back. And being surrounded by nothing but Misha is too much. Misha works their cocks into the slick heat of his hand until Jensen is trembling against him, feeling his toes start to curl. 

He comes with his lips against Misha’s pulse point, feeling the quick flutter of Misha's heartbeat against his mouth. A dozen seconds later Misha follows, mouth slack on Jensen’s jaw, groaning, “I love you.”

Jensen feels the words he’s heard Misha say hundreds of times before taking root in his heart and dig in deep. Any worry he had about what their lives would look like together after the finale completely vanishes. This isn’t it, this won't be the end. 

“I love you too.”

Coming down, breathing mingled, Jensen slides a hand up into Misha’s hair and drags him in, pressing their foreheads together. Thousands of memories pass through Jensen’s mind over the past decade of him and Misha together. Sometimes, it wasn’t easy -- season seven was a rough patch, where the distance got to him in ways it took a long time to recover from. But they got stronger, found out the right rhythm to make them and their families work. No matter what happens, Misha has a permanent place in his life, distance be damned. 

After Friday, they won’t have Vancouver, but they will have the future and Jensen can’t wait to see just how Misha will fit into his. 

“We’re going to be okay,” Jensen whispers, his lips brushing Misha’s as he speaks. 

“Yeah,” Misha agrees. “We will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Filming ends today and it's going to be rough. I'll be on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anastiels) all day if you want to come and yell me how much you've enjoyed watching these two be gross and in love over the years. <3


End file.
